The Delena Scene
by Sylmarillion
Summary: A scene from 1.14, "Fool Me Once," where Elena convinces Damon that they're all trying to help him get Katherine out of the tomb. From Elena's point of view and plenty of Elena/Damon. Please rate & review!


The doors and windows of the Salvatore boarding house were locked, but Stefan had given me one of the keys.

I entered the living room to see Damon preparing to leave. He'd left the Grimoire on a table to put on his jacket.

He looked up, his eyebrows rising slightly.

I sensed something flash between us, a concept of problems and words unspoken and unresolved. I'd lied to Damon and betrayed him, and to me at least, it was all too clear that he was hurt.

But he was cynical and indifferent when he spoke, as always. "I'm going to have to change the locks." He picked up the Grimoire. "Did you stage a jailbreak?"

I shrugged. "Stefan." It was self-explanatory enough.

"Oh, brother." He steepled his fingers on the table, a fake smile briefly curling his lips. It seemed he spat the next words out. "Ever the white knight."

I decided to cut to the chase. "I convinced Bonnie to help you."

"I doubt _that_."

I tried another tact. "I'm not going to say that I'm sorry we got the Grimoire without you last night," I admitted, moving towards the stairs, "because I'm not, really."

"Well, at least you're honest." He smiled again, and for some reason it twisted something in me.

Regardless, I was also wary and determined. "I was protecting the people I love, Damon. But so were you; in your own, twisted way."

Maybe it was low of me to think it, but if this was how he'd been before he turned into a vampire, only Katherine could have had any affection for Damon, considering what she'd been like. Because she was the only person to show genuine kindness to him - or as genuine as it'd been for Katherine - he was obsessed with getting her back. No matter who he hurt or killed in the process.

He stood impatiently, clearly wanting it to be over.

I went down the stairs. "And as hard as it is to figure," I said, "we're all on the same side, after the same thing." In terms of getting happiness, we all were.

"Not interested." He turned to leave.

"Yes, you _are_," I cried, "because you were willing to work with us yesterday."

He turned around. "Fool me once?" His voice dropped to a mock-whisper: "Shame on you."

I thought quickly. "OK. When we were in Atlanta, why didn't you use your compulsion on me?"

He dumped the Grimoire on the table by the stairs and came nearer, crossing his arms. His expression was grimly amused. "Who's to say I didn't?"

I frowned slightly. "You didn't."

He raised his eyebrows.

"I know you didn't," I repeated. I was sure of that now. "But you could have." I stepped closer to him; we were only a few feet apart. "You and I," I murmured, ". . . we have something." I was thinking my thoughts aloud, as much as needing to get my point across.

His face didn't change, but his eyes fell from mine and he seemed to swallow.

"An understanding," I continued. His gaze found me again. "And I know that my betrayal hurt you, different from how it is with you and Stefan, but – " I took a deep breath – "I'm promising you this now, I will help you get Katherine back."

He didn't know what to do with that. He looked away, turning his head in a way I knew he was conflicted. "I wish I could believe you," he said.

On impulse, I took off Stefan's necklace and held it out in front of me. "Ask me if I'm lying now," I said, not quite confident, not entirely frightened. I put it on the table, next to the Grimoire, and met his eyes defiantly. I felt my heart skip as he narrowed them at me. _This is my choice,_ I reminded myself. _It will be no one's fault but my own if he decides to compel me._

He said, "You know I won't stop, by the way. No matter what I do." I was so close to him, I could have leaned forward and kissed him.

I took a deep breath again. "Then we'll deal with it."

His gaze never leaving mine, he leaned down and picked up the necklace. He unclasped the lock.

I felt the cold pressure of his skin grazing mine as his fingers fastened it around my neck. It was the first time he'd touched me.

My heart picked up speed, and I could almost feel sweat beading out across my body as my eyes travelled the top of his muscular chest revealed by his open neck shirt, to his strong lips that were always tightened by some unspoken hurt – but now softened under some kind of acknowledgement – and to his eyes, which were mesmerizing up close.

If Damon sensed any of my noticing, he didn't show it. He only shook his head slightly as he shook out my hair from under the necklace, as if I should know better than to think he would need to resort to compulsion to get the truth out of me.

"I didn't compel you in Atlanta because we were having fun," he said. Or perhaps because he couldn't believe that I'd guessed right.

He was looking at the necklace, but I was staring at his eyes in subdued amazement, not only because the patterns and swirls in them were fascinating, but also due to the realization that he had _never_ compelled me. Not once. He wouldn't be speaking to me in this way if he had.

He shook out my hair a last time. "I wanted it to be real."

My gaze flickered to his lips again, then back.

His voice was quiet when he spoke. Serious. "I'm trusting you." As if the words coming out were rusty and unused. "Don't make me regret it."

_I won't. I promise, Damon._ I tried to speak my thoughts, but nothing came out.

His eyes searched mine.

My expression must have been enough, because he turned away to pick up the Grimoire.

Released from his gaze, I took a shaky breath, feeling as if I was resurfacing from a long sojourn under a stormy sea.

- - - - - - - - - -

Well, that's it. If you've come to the end and you're reading this, please remember to rate and review! Thanks :)


End file.
